The Thing Worth Fighting For
by scaleleviosa23875
Summary: Beginning with 10 years after the war, following the ever growing and expanding Weasley clan & co. Daily goings and musings of the sub-households, as they began to live the thing worth fighting for.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I am not the great J. K. Rowling, and I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

_CRASH_

Ginny Potter looked up from the empty crib before her onto the recently painted ceiling as she rubbed her growing stomach and sighed. Boys, she thought wearily. _How could two four-year-olds cause so much chaos_, she first questioned – then again this is the descendant of a Marauder and the other is the offspring of none other than George Weasley, her dear brother. As she slowly turned, headed towards the door of the bedroom, a flash of dark hair passed the room only to turn around and face her, sharing her same tired look.

Harry adjusted his glasses and gently beckoned his wife back into the room, towards the rocking chair.

"I'll get them, you just sit down and relax," he said gently, placing a small pillow on her lower back. He was always so gentle with her, especially in her current state when she is due to deliver any day now.

"Why did we decide to take in two additional children today, Harry, out of all the days in the world?" Ginny said with an annoyance in her tone. Her two-year-old Albus and Ron and Hermione's two year old Rose were fast asleep in the room next door, she thought, as she silently thanked Hermione for the muggle baby monitors that she bought for Harry and Ginny years ago. The thing had proved to work wonders and became a household essential since the birth of Victoire in every Weasley household. New tired parents were able to now protect their sleeping babies with the silencing charms from their rambunctious toddlers.

"Because your brother can not handle a toddler and a three-month-old infant without setting the house on fire, while Hermione has to handle a crisis at the Ministry. Conveniently, the rest of the family is 'busy' today, and your parents are on a senior-only wizarding tour to Greece. I reckon they just want to avoid the terrible-two Rose," replied Harry as he covered his wife belly-down with a knitted blanket.

They heard the thunderous laughter of two boys and their sprinting footsteps, then another _CRASH_ and silence.

"I better go, before the Ministry sends someone over," Harry said, kissing Ginny on the forehead and turning to exit the room. "Muffliato," he mumbled as he closed the door to the nursery.

Heading up the stairs, Harry was greeted by a brown Labrador puppy they adopted from the Menagerie three months ago. He seemed as if he was running from terror, to find Harry, to report the catastrophe that James and Fred managed to create this time.

"Come on, Angus, let's see what's happened," said Harry, motioning up the stairs to the dog. Angus followed, seeming more relaxed. As Harry reached the top of the stairs, he looked to the hallway to his right and found what looked like confetti, glitter, and broken porcelain scattered on the hall rug. Rubbing his eyes, he flicked his wand to set the mess to the side of the hall, clearing way for him and Angus to enter the room on the left.

There was a bright, child-size red tent in the bedroom with four feet peeking from it. Angus went into the bedroom and headed straight for the underside of the bed in the corner of the room. Harry entered, careful not to step on the variety of children toys on the floor. He could not help but smile slightly at the sight of the two pairs of feet.

"Ah Angus, I guess a ghost must have gone through and broke the vase in the hall," said Harry mischievously to the dog. He picked up two toy wands, silently cursing "fun Uncle Charlie" for bringing back toy wands for the children last Christmas ("They're harmless, really!").

"Looks like the ghost must have nicked these wands, perhaps we better return them to Charlie," he said. Quicker than a flash, the two feet squirmed out of the tent, revealing the small bodies they belonged to. Two dark haired boys began to loudly apologize, their faces almost stark white.

"It was us, Uncle Harry! Honest!"

"Please don't return the wand, Daddy, we won't do it again! We promise!"

The two boys were now clinging at Harry, trying to grab the wands out of his hands, but Harry raised his hands to the ceiling.

"Alright, alright," quieted Harry, "Now you boys know that your Mum – your Aunt Ginny, Fred – is in a right state. She needs quiet. And the babies are still sleeping, hadn't we talked about this?" The boys slowly backed up and sat on the bed, as Harry sat on the small chair across from them. They nodded and looked down apologetically.

"Now I won't return the wand, but you have to promise me that you'll be playing quietly, understood?" He placed the toy wands on the nightstand, two boys nodded excitedly. He sighed, got up, to leave the room.

"Dad?" called James, half-nervously. Harry turned around.

"We're bored!" James exclaimed, raising his hands up to pull his face down. Harry looked down at the watch on his wrist. 4:15. The boys have been cooped up in the house since 10 am this morning, it's a miracle that they've just now managed to break something. In 45 minutes, Angelina would be by to pick up Fred anyway. Ginny's trying to sort out the nursery one last time – though she should be resting – and Albus and Rose will not be awake for another hour or two.

"Say, would we like some small scoops of ice cream before dinner?" Harry said. The two boys exclaimed happily and ran down to get their shoes. Harry smiled, shook his head, and followed them out. On the way out he poked his head into the nursery, to find Ginny folding some more baby clothes on her belly as she rocked back and forth on the chair. She looked up at him.

"No broken limbs?" she asked, smiling faintly.

"Only a broken vase. Sorry love," he said, giving her a quick peck, "I think I'll take them out to Florean Fortescue's, then by George's so that Angelina won't have to pick up Fred on her way home."

"Will you also pick up take-away from Leaky Cauldron's?"

"Of course. Just stay off your feet and relax. We'll be back in an hour's time," he said, grinning at her. She could see the exhaustion on his face. Though he's taken some time off from work to help her prepare for the baby, taking care of two boys under the age of 5 and a pregnant wife full-time can equal to two Auror missions. He wonders how Ginny does it nearly every day and still has time to write her articles for the Prophet. Let alone his mother-in-law, raising _seven_ children, two of which were the second generations of Marauders.

"You're a gem, Mr. Potter, but this is why we have bad children. You spoil them rotten" she said, beaming at her husband. He returned her smile and exited the room to find two excited boys waiting for him at the fireplace.

* * *

The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley on a late summer afternoon was a sight for Harry's eyes. He could still recall, from time-to-time, the desertion of the area during the war. He and along with many of the war survivors had helped the re-building and re-establishment of the wizarding world of Britain, Diagon Alley being the center of it all. With Florean Fortescue's passing, his great-nephew Kent had re-opened the store in his memory. Harry tightened his hands on the two boys, recalling their last trip as a trio to Diagon Alley – he ended up rounding his Auror squad to look for the boys through the multitude of shops, only to find them at the back of the Quidditch Supply Shop.

After they ordered their creameries, the three sit in a booth, the boys eating their ice cream as if they've never had ice cream before and it was the best thing in the world. Harry chuckled to himself as he watched them. _It's the little things_, he thought to himself. A little over 10 years ago, he never would have thought that he'll be sitting at Fortescue's, looking at his and Ginny's precious, handsome offspring - he just worried over Ginny's safety, wondering half the time if she's still living and breathing...Never had he thought that he'll be watching a little boy full of life and mischief, a product of George Weasley, whom he thought 10 years ago to be in constant mourning of Fred, not speaking to anyone but holed up in his childhood bedroom.

It's the little things like these that were, and still are, worth fighting for.

As they finished their ice cream, Harry left two galleons on the table and headed out, with the children singing him praises about how great of a father and uncle he is for letting them have ice cream before dinner. He laughed it off, and the three turned a corner into Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

It was nearly impossible to spot any particular person in that shop due to the variants of colors and noise, yet from the top of the steps he can spot George with a bright smile on his face, chatting with customers as he demonstrates a new product.

"Definitely one of the best things in our inventory so far!" he exclaimed proudly, winking at a portrait of Fred nearby, who winked back. The teenagers around him cited 'whoa's and 'where can I get one's, while little Fred tugged on his father's robe.

"Daddy! Uncle Harry took us to ice cream!" exclaimed Fred happily. George turned to find Harry and his small photo-copy, clapping his back then picking up his son.

"Ginny sent an owl to Angelina's office to tell him we'd be dropping Freddie off, no need for her to make an extra trip," explained Harry, "Looks like you're busy as ever today!"

"Right you are, and thanks for taking this little scoundrel. Angie's upstairs whipping supper already! Care for some dinner? Or at least some Skivving Snackboxes?" replied George.

"Thanks, but we've placed an order with Hannah at Leaky, and Ginny's expecting us back soon," answered Harry, "we'll-"

"But we'll take some Skivving Snackboxes, Uncle George!" cut James, his hazel eyes widened with excitement. Harry shook his head as George stuffed three of the product into James's jumper pockets.

"Ginny will not thank you," continued Harry, "but we'll see you Sunday at the Burrow?"

"'Course! Give Ginny my love! See you, Jamesie!" exclaimed George, as he tugged on little Fred upstairs to their flat above the shop.

* * *

As Harry apparated into his living room with James in one arm and take-away in the other, he found his very pregnant wife lounging on the sofa with a small girl with bright red curly ponytails, and Angus laying lazily at her feet.

"Look who's back, Rosie!" said Ginny, smiling at her husband. The small girl, surprisingly calm, played with a stuffed plush Snitch, waved at Harry and flashed a toothy grin.

"Hi Rosie," said Harry, grinning at the girl. He set the food on the kitchen counter and let James down, who immediately went to bother Angus. "Has she been up for very long?"

"Not really, she's still coming out of her nap-coma. Al's still asleep, that boy can sleep through anything!"

"Must get that from Ron," replied Harry, as he took food out from the brown bag. Ginny got up slowly and lugged herself to the kitchen table.

"James, Rosie, let's have supper! Mummy should be back very soon, love," she added the last bit to Rosie as the little girl raised her arms to Ginny. Harry rushed to her side and picked up Rosie and sat her on Al's booster seat. He's been quick to notice when Ginny tries to bend down and pick up one of the children, or to reach for something up high, or to lift something. He'd rush to her quickly, seeing as his stubborn wife perhaps often forgets that she's carrying a life inside of her. James sat on his chair and the family began to dig in. The smell of the sweet apple sauce over the pork satisfied the last bit of Ginny's pregnancy cravings. James ate his steamed carrots, while Harry thanked Merlin for the delicious and healthy menu that Hannah Longbottom introduced to Leaky Cauldron ever since she and Neville bought the place from Tom. Take-away were almost quintessential these days in his household, it's a bonus that they're actually food that had a home-made quality about them.

After supper, as Rose began to pitch an attitude because she grew tired of her snitch, Albus made a fuss. As Harry headed to Albus's room, Hermione Granger-Weasley popped into their living room. Rose, as if she she could sense that her mother has arrived, turned her head and headed towards her with a bright grin on her face.

"Mama!" she exclaimed, forgetting the snitch and flinging herself to Hermione's arms. She kissed her chubby pink cheeks and hoisted her up on her hip to greet Ginny.

"Thanks so much for taking her today, especially on such short notice," greeted Hermione, exchanging cheeks with Ginny, "How was she today?"

"She's been great, haven't you Rosie?" cooed Ginny. The little girl smiled as she rested her head on her mother's neck. Hermione kissed her temple.

"Everything sorted at the Ministry today?" asked Harry, as he returned to the living room with Albus in tow. Hermione smiled, traces of exhaustion evident on her face.

"Finally, yes. You'd think that I can be gone for six weeks and the amount of work has just piled and piled – feels like no one did anything when I was on leave! Now I'm spending weekends on call – I took an office job because I didn't want to be on call!"

"Anyway, thanks again you two, for taking her today. Now I just have to make sure my house is still intact," said Hermione, as she headed towards the fireplace.

"Ah, I'm sure Ron's capable of handling a small infant and whipping up supper," kid Harry, as he bounced Albus, who was still in the process of fully waking up. Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly, and with a flash of green light, she and Rose disappeared.

* * *

At #25 Park Lane, Horton, Berkshire, Ronald Weasley stood over the sink in his kitchen, wearing an apron decorated with red tomato sauce. Hugo was 10 feet away, happily lying in his play pen, staring at the Quidditch mobile over him. He was an easy-going infant; he was perfectly content with being by himself in either his pen or his crib, cooing at anything that moves. The fact that he was usually so quiet and fuss-less, was the exact reason why Hermione worried about leaving him alone with Ron and Rosie – the last time the three were left at home alone, Ron had his hands full with the high-maintenance Rosie, that he completely forgot to give Hugo his late afternoon bottle, resulting in a very long night for himself and his wife. At the very least, with Rosie at the Potters, Ron would remember that he has an infant son who, as a result of Hermione's disciplined feeding time scheduling, will go haywire when his schedule is altered, even with the slightest change.

He heard a soft rattle from the fireplace, knowing that it was his wife and daughter. Seconds after, he was proven right with the sound of little feet heading towards him, followed by more gentle footsteps. He turned around to find his little Rosie, her red curly pigtails flinging behind her, and his tired wife following.

"Dada! Hi Dada!" greeted Rosie, her arms thrown up in the air, motioning for Ron to pick her up. He obliged, and was rewarded with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Rosie! I missed you today!" he said, returning a peck to her cheek, making her giggle. He turned to his wife and rounded her with his other arm, kissing her forehead.

"And how are you today, love? Everything sorted?"

"At last, yes. It's so great to be home," she turned towards the playpen and picked up a happy Hugo, "and how was your day with Daddy, Hugo?" Hugo returned her smile and wiggled in her arms, reaching for her nose. She loved the scent of babies, especially her babies. She had only been gone for no less than 9 hours today, and though she knew that her babies were with their father and uncle and aunt, she missed them as if she'd been without them for days.

"He was very good, just had his bottle and he's content as a clam. I made some pasta, are you ready for supper?"

"Yes, starved," Hermione replied, hungrily. She could feel her stomach growl.

"Rosie, why don't you play some more while Mama and Daddy eat for a bit? Ginny and Harry fed her already," she added the last bit, explaining to Ron. Ron placed the hot pot of pasta on the table as Hermione put Hugo back in his pen, and Rosie already began to pull toys out of her box. The couple sat down and Hermione began to scoop helpings of food onto Ron's plate, then hers. They chatted animatedly throughout dinner, Hermione going on about the Ministry crisis, and Ron about his mishap at the market.

"I still think the charcuterie shop keeper has an eye out for you," teased Hermione, making Ron blush a bit.

"Hey now, I think it's my latest accessory that she's got an eye out for. Who knew baby carriers were such a trend this season?" he kids back.

"So are handsome red-headed Daddies who go to the market," she replied, "good thing you're stuck with me now!"

"Ah, darling, _you're_ stuck with _me_," he said, getting up, picking up his plate and hers. She smiled, carried away in her thoughts, as she glanced around their house. She thought of the work that went into this house, making it livable for herself and Ron, an undertaking for when they first married. It was not large, and not small, just enough. There were photographs on the walls, on the mantle, and on shelves – of their glory days at Hogwarts, of family, friends, and loved ones. Thoughts of her own small family ran through her mind as she walks to the sink and places dishes on the counter, while Ron charms the faucet. Her eyes landed on her tall, ginger husband, who was chatting animatedly with their two-year-old. He was no Chosen One, not exactly the most desirable Wizard on last year's Witch Weekly in terms of appearance. But he was a man, her man, made and destined for her only.

She thought to Rita Skeeter's recent article, where she nastily spread words that Ron had relinquished his manhood when he quit the Auror force and helped with the joke shop, and when he cut his hours back on the shop to only twice a week to stay home with the children when Hermione was promoted to the position of Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It bothered her all the more – but Ron took it lightly.

"_It's fine, love, it doesn't bother me," he said calmly, as she furiously started on a letter to the Prophet to file a complaint for the recent article._

"_It's not fine, Ron, clearly she's spreading lies – less of a man…I'll tell you who'll be less of an occupation when I'm through…"_

"_Darling, it doesn't bother me," he laid a hand on her back, caressing it lightly, and gently picking up her quill and setting it down, "I could care less of what she, or others, for that matter, think of me. Only you". _

_She leaned into her chair and sighed. Her brown eyes met his blues, and she leaned on him._

"_Maybe this was a bad idea…We just had Hugo, and Rosie's still so little," she began to say, but Ron had cut her off._

"_It's not, Hermione. There's nothing I'd want in this world more than to be home with the children. And I could no longer stand leaving you alone for days, weeks, during those missions. Here I was, helping to protect the wizarding world, when my wife and two babies are home alone. I think I've done my part – and you and Harry too, in fact, when we hunted Horcruxes and defeated Death Eaters. It's time to take care of my own," he explained. Hermione sighed again, faintly smiling, crumbling the parchment in her hands. She threw it into the bin and turned towards him, sitting on his lap, placing her arms around his neck._

"_Why, Ronald Weasley, when did you get so mature?" she coyly teased. He smiled at her._

"_Always the tone of surprise," he replied, giving her a small peck on her lips._

"_Besides," he continued, "that hag's just probably jealous that she's still a gossip columnist who couldn't bag such a studly husband with a sensitive side!"_

* * *

As she charmed the kitchen clean, she hugged Ron from behind, standing on her tip-toes to reach his ear.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing his back through his shirt. He grinned at the dishes, and before he could turn to return the gesture to his wife, a stag patronus appeared in their kitchen.

"Ginny's in labor, boys are with Percy and Audrey. We're off to St. Mungo's," said Harry's voice, with a tinge of panic, through the patronus. In a swift movement, Hermione summoned the baby bag and Rose's small backpack full of child-goodies, and Ron strapped the baby carrier onto his chest. He picked up his wand and conjured a his patronus.

"Send word to Mum and Dad, and the rest of the family – Ginny's in labor, meet us at St. Mungo's," he ordered, and the dog ran and disappeared. He picked up Hugo and placed him on the carrier, and Hermione flung the baby bag to her shoulders and placed Rosie on her hip. The four step into the fireplace and floo'd to St. Mungo's.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading. I was inspired by the recent short story that Ms. Rowling posted on Pottermore. I wrote before, years ago, and just recently started again. Hope you all enjoyed it, I certainly enjoyed writing it! I will continue to add more chapters, please review and let me know if you have any ideas!


	2. Chapter 2

The elder Molly Weasley sat on the bench outside of the maternity ward at St. Mungo's. She watched as her grandchildren play on the brightly carpeted area in front of her, and the rest of her family talk amongst themselves. Her eyes met with the eyes of her husband, who sat on the floor tinkering with some toys, entertaining the smaller toddlers.

_Another grandchild_, she thought to herself with pride. She watched with adoration as Arthur, clad in a tropical patterned shirt and shorts, matching hers, adjusted his visor as four-year-old Molly flung herself to his lap. This was her heaven – a roomful of her children being together, Arthur laughing with and surrounded by his grandchildren. Greece was a nice change of scenery, and she and Arthur quite enjoyed their retirement, being a couple again, only doing the fun side of parenting – spoiling the grandchildren then sending them home. She'd never been so pleased to receive a patronus out of nowhere.

Her attention broke when she heard a cry from the wall behind her, where her only daughter was in the process of bringing her most recent grandchild into the world.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU ARE SLEEPING ON THE SOFA FROM NOW ON!" she roared. Her children and in-laws broke into laughter, and she could not help but chuckle herself.

"Funny, seems like that's her birthing catchphrase," joked Charlie as he bounced Albus on his knee. Another laugh from the clan, as Percy returned from the cafeteria with Victoire and Teddy, bringing trays of water for everyone.

Moments later, they heard the cry of a newborn, signaling that the new addition to the clan has arrived. Fleur exited out of the room, and placed her wand into her healer robe.

"Well, mozher and ze babe are doing juz- fine! Audrey iz tenzing to ze babe now," she exclaimed happily. There were cheers of happiness and Molly rushed to give Fleur a hug.

"Oh, thank Merlin! Thank you, Fleur!" she said, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. Fleur, being a maternity healer, has tended to the birth of every Weasley-related birth with the exception of her own children.

"Mollee, iz waz a smooth delivery! No need to worry," she replied, "I must go back in, I will make sure Ginny iz comfortable." As she returned to the room, Harry exited, carrying a small bundle of pink. The room suddenly quieted down, and Molly's tears of joy started again as she reached her arms out to the bundle.

"Everyone, this is my little Lily Luna Potter!" he said proudly and excitedly. He handed the baby to Molly, who promptly kissed her forehead gently, as every aunt and uncle and cousin in the room gather around them. Harry picked James up and pulled Teddy closer with one arm, as Charlie had Albus, and everyone parted to make room for the two brothers to meet their new sister.

"James, Al, this is Lily. She's your new baby sister!" introduced Harry.

"Baby?" piped Albus, confused.

"Baby," replied Molly, beaming at her new granddaughter. She reminded her of Ginny when she was born. Tufts of strawberry blonde hair, long brown eyelashes, and pink round cheeks. Her eyes were still closed, she was sleeping soundly. Molly sat on the nearby chair so that the rest of the grandchildren can see her.

"Can I touch her?"

"What does she smell like?"

"A baby, a baby!"

"I want to hold her!"

"No, _I_ want to hold her!" cries startled from the grandchildren, arguing amongst themselves as to who will get to bask in the new baby.

"Alright, settle down," called Arthur calmly, "Teddy goes first, it's his sister too, you know! Go on, Ted!"

Teddy sat next to Grandmum Weasley and stretched his arm to receive Lily. "Be gentle, now, Teddy," reminded Molly quietly. Teddy happily gazed at the newborn as her lips began to form a small smile.

"She'll give you a run for your money, mate," said Ron, "Welcome to the Dads with Daughters club, finally!"

* * *

Ginny sat in her bed at St. Mungo's, holding her newest baby in her arms. The rest of the family has returned to their respective homes, and her two toddlers asleep in the cots next to her bed, not wanting to leave their mother and their new sister. Teddy laid on the sofa, reading the comic section of the day-old Prophet. Harry was still taking care of the birth certificates, and more paperwork in the Administration department.

"Is she still asleep?" asked Teddy in a whisper, slowly getting up towards Ginny's bed. He sat on his side, looking at the baby.

"She is, she's had a big day today," said Ginny quietly.

"Right, making her entrance into the world and all. She's earned her nap," joked Teddy. Ginny smiled warmly at him as he caressed Lily's cheek gently.

"I remember when you were born, Teddy," piped Ginny. Teddy looked up at her, studying her face. He's never heard his own birth story before.

"Your father was at Grimmauld Place for a meeting with the Order, and your mother was with me, your grandmother, and Grandmum Weasley at the Burrow. You were due almost any day then…it was dark times, Ted, dark times. But you were the one thing that gave us a reason to persist, a reason to smile."

"Then suddenly your mother started to feel uneasy, and Fleur suggested that we head straight to St. Mungo's. Your mother was worried that Remus would miss it, - your birth, that is - but he came just in the nick of time. I'd never seen two people so happy during such dark times Ted, or any time at all for that matter. When you entered the world, it seemed like all of the darkness were gone."

Teddy smiled at Ginny's story, glad and proud that he was the son of two brave heroes, who had sacrificed everything for him, for others, and for a multitude of new lives to begin. He felt comfort in the fact that he's given his parents at least one moment of happiness.

"I remember your hair kept changing colors and textures for days! Tonks was excited that you inherited her metamorphagous ability, and Remus thought it was the most entertaining thing in the world. There was even bets placed on what would be you 'default' hair color within the Order!" Ginny recalled, smiling brightly. Teddy let out a small laugh.

"I still remember Kingsley's woes about losing 10 galleons," Harry added as he entered the room, "Think I should take you and the boys to the Burrow, Ted, Grandmum Weasley prepared Ron's old room for you and James. Some of your cousins will be there."

"Alright, if I have to," he said, getting up. Harry took Albus into his arms and woke James up. Teddy picked up his small rucksack and helped Harry with James. _Such a great big brother for her boys and Lily to look up to_, thought Ginny.

"I'll be back in a moment. Say goodnight to your mother and sister boys," said Harry, as he kissed his wife and baby girl and Teddy and James lined to do the same.

"Mama loves you, Jamesie, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" she said to a half-awake James, whose only thoughts were of beds and sleep.

"See you, Lily," bid Teddy. The four men left the room, and Ginny was once again alone with her little girl.

* * *

Harry Potter hovered over the crib in the pink nursery, picking up his crying newborn. He'd let Ginny sleep as it's only been two weeks and she's still healing and tires easily. He also secretly enjoyed this time, the rare times that he's alone with his little girl without any interruption from anyone.

He rocked and bounced her softly in his arms and her crying slowly concedes. He sat in the rocking chair next to the crib, and glanced around the room at the piles of presents – some opened, some half-opened, some still neatly wrapped – from family and friends. Ginny tried to sort them out earlier, but she grew tired after keeping up with the boys and Lily today since Harry had to step into the Ministry for an important meeting.

"You're so loved, Lily," he said softly to her. She nestled deeper into Harry's chest and let out a short noise of comfort, her brown eyes giving him her undivided attention. She had grown more of the strawberry blonde hair, looking more and more like Ginny everyday – just with slightly lighter hair. She was the most beautiful and wonderful thing he's ever held and loved, and he had a feeling that she may just give him a run for his money after all.

"You have three brothers who dote on you, and a herd of aunts and uncles and cousins. Not to mention the best grandparents," he added, "and your beautiful, kind mother. And me, Daddy loves you. I love you with all of my heart, Lily."

It was the same speech that Harry gave each of his newborns as he is alone with them. It was the same protective incantations that his mother had used to protect him from the grasp of Voldemort, the incantation that saved him. Voldemort no longer existed, true – yet there were still danger everywhere, the last of his followers still lurking about.

Minutes later, Lily was fast asleep. Harry placed her gently on the crib and slowly slipped out of the room, back to his bedroom. There Ginny laid asleep, a look of comfort and contentment on her face. He quietly slipped into the bed and starred at the back of his wife, the mother of his children, before wrapping his arms around her waist and falling back into slumber.

The next morning, Ginny woke to a quiet house, her husband still asleep next to her, the sun slowly filling their bedroom. She looked at the clock on the nightstand, 6:30 A.M. Lily had slept a full 5 hours, a new record – and Teddy, James, and Albus were surely still asleep after the exhausting day they spent at the beach with their cousins at Shell Cottage. It was Sunday, meaning a roast supper at the Burrow. She slowly climbed out of her bed and pulled on the belt of her bathrobe, grabbed the baby monitor, and headed to the kitchen. She casted "Muffliato" around the perimeter on the kitchen, so as to not wake anyone as she prepared breakfast for her family.

It was one of the things she loved to do, making breakfast. Especially for her own little family. She watched her mother do it every day since she was a little girl, and she began helping when she was old enough. She summoned the ingredients from the cupboard, gathering bowls and spatulas herself. She began to pour ingredients together to make a batch of pancakes.

As she whisked the mix, her eyes traveled to the family room. Toys and baby wares were everywhere, blankets and pillows were on the floor. The boys's beach bags were still by the doorway, leaving trails of sand on the floor. Ginny was not particularly dirty, but she didn't mind the mess. To her, the mess meant that life happened here. Messes can be cleaned up, but sometimes she catches herself smiling at the cluttered room.

As she charm the stove and pancake mix to cook itself, she headed towards the living room to pick up the toys and blankets, one by one, every now and then checking on her pancakes. She didn't realize how many hours has passed by, as she sees Harry enter the family room with Lily in his arms.

"Oh, I didn't realize she was awake," glanced Ginny, thinking that she hadn't heard anything come from the monitor.

"She didn't fuss, I just went in to see her and she was just laying there, awake. I've changed her, she's good to go," he said, placing Lily in the slowly rocking basinet nearby and placing his arms around Ginny.

"Husband of the year, you are," said Ginny, smiling as he kissed her good morning. He let go of her and began helping her pick things up off the floor, as Ginny returned back to the kitchen to turn off the stove. Moments later pitter patter of feet and paws came down the stairs, and Ginny and Harry greeted the little bodies that made the noises.

"Morning boys," said Harry, lifting his mug of coffee to greet James and Teddy, "Al still asleep?" They shook their head and headed for the chairs.

'Mama, mama!' is heard through the monitor, announcing that Albus is indeed, awake. Ginny placed the food on the table, as Harry began to distribute pancakes and fruits to the boys.

She found Albus nearly climbing out of his crib again, picking him up into her arms.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she covered his chubby face with kisses. Albus giggled, patting Ginny's cheeks.

"I think you're ready for a big boy's bed, aren't you?" she said to him, as she walked out of the room.

"I big boy, mama? Like Jame' and Teddy?" he questioned.

"I think you are, as much as I hate to admit it," she answered, "Guess who's ready for his own big boy bed!" she announced as they entered the kitchen.

"Climbing again?" guessed Harry, as Ginny placed Albus in his seat. She nodded.

"Big boy bed it is, then," Harry said, as he watched Albus and his brothers dig into their helpings of pancakes vigorously. He chuckled. Weasley offsprings are never fussy eaters, it's embedded into their genetics, he decided.

* * *

That same morning, Bill Weasley sat in the family room of Shell Cottage, watching three-year-old Louis trot on his broomstick, hovering a mere 2 feet above ground. He could hear mixtures of French and English from the upstairs bedrooms, minor arguments between his wife of nearly eleven years and his daughters. Following, he could hear footsteps racing towards him; three blonde ladies appeared before him with hands on their waists.

"Dad, help me!" bellowed Victoire, sinking onto her father's lap.

"Yeah, Dad, help me!" echoed her sister, Dominique. Lately she's been following Victoire's footsteps, replicating everything she does, everything she says, and everything she wants. Victoire didn't mind, she felt flattered that she had a minion, and assumed responsibility in turning Dominique into her ally.

"What's the matter?" Bill asked, stroking her daughter's hair, "And tell Daddy calmly."

"Mum won't let me wear my new make up to dinner! Tante Gabrielle bought it for us from Paris!" Victoire exclaimed, and Dominique vigorously nodded in agreement, resting her head on her father's chest. At the sight before her, Fleur knew that there's a good chance she may lose this argument, but she stood her ground. Bill sitting in the armchair, tangled in between his two daughters whose lips formed pouts. Bill looked at the expressions on his daughters' faces and sighed.

Exasperated, Fleur flew out of the room, muttering to herself loudly, her arms flying with her steps, "_Elles ne sont pas vieux meme 10 ans!_ Beel, zey are still littell girls! I zid not even wear make up until I was 12!"

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!" whined Victoire. Bill tried to hold the chuckle to himself as he tried to disentangle himself off the mass of limbs and blonde hair that are his daughters.

"Why don't you girls pick out your outfits, I'll talk to Mum, alright?" he beckoned. Still grumbling, the girls headed off to their bedroom as Bill found his wife in the kitchen.

"Love, they-" he started.

"_Mais non, Beel!_ Zey are not old enough! And vat vas my seester thinking, getting littell girls such a gift!" exclaimed Fleur, throwing the dish towel on the counter. Bill stepped closer to her, caressing her back to calm her down.

"Maybe they can just wear a bit of it? And if we keep saying no to them, they'll pout and rile everyone else along with them," bargained Bill. Fleur finally gave in, much to her dismay.

"You are un-reel, Beel Weesley," said Fleur teasingly, turning to meet her husband's grin, "Can't even stand up to your own daughters?"

Before Bill could think of any clever reply, a swarm of blonde hair came through the doorway of the kitchen, heading straight for Fleur.

"Merci, Maman! You're the best! Je t'adore!" exclaimed Victoire excitedly.

"Only ze leep-stick, Victoire Weesley!" she replied, trying to keep stern.

Bill chuckled, lifting up Dominique on his shoulders and headed back into the family room.

"Daddy," said Dominique, feeling her own darker blonde, and shorter hair, "do you reckon that I'd be as beautiful as Victoire and Mum one day?"

Bill looked at his six-year-old with a slight concern, as he understood why she's been tailing Victoire the past few weeks.

"Oh, my love," said Bill, holding her tighter, as he sat back on his chair, "you already are. Beautiful, lovely, and gorgeous. You're not like Mum or Victoire, per say, but you're beautiful in your own way, as are your Mum and your sister."

"But Dad, people always say how pretty Victoire is and how lovely Mum's dresses are, and they never say anything about me. Do you think it's because of my nose?"

While Victoire inherited nearly everything from Fleur, Dominique was gifted with darker blonde hair and a slightly flatter nose and deep blue eyes that matched her father's. Her cheekbones were less pronounced than Victoire's, and she only has one dimple on her left cheek instead of Victoire's mirroring cheek dimples.

"Certainly not – that's my nose you've got, you know!" said Bill, pretending to be slightly hurt, "But we're all bound to be slightly different, love. I think you're beautiful since the day you were born. And here's a tip; beauty does not just come from here," he gestured towards her face, " but it also comes from here-" he pointed to her forehead, "and more, here," he pointed to her heart. Dominique grinned brightly at her father, feeling proud. Bill matched her grin, and as he pulled her closer into his arms, a thud was heard and the father and daughter looked up to find Louis off his broom after flying into a mirror.

"At least my brain's better than his, right Daddy?" she teased. Bill chuckled as Dominique leaped from his lap, going to help her little brother stand again.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur Weasley had spent a late summer afternoon in his garage, trying to figure out the purpose of a mobile. He's collected 14 different mobiles, taken them apart, pieced them back together, and tried to see how exactly they would work. He had been reading plenty of research literature regarding the device, the most intriguing one was about the concept of "video-conferencing using the face-front camera," – perhaps similar to the way a Two-Way Mirror works – something he'd have to consult with either Harry, Hermione, or Audrey.

Upon hearing the gleeful yelling outside and catching two little girls running towards him, Arthur put the two mobiles down on his work bench. A small girl in pigtails, followed by her older sister, greeted him.

"Hi Grandad!" said Dominique, launching her six-year-old self to Arthur and landed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, while Victoire placed her hands around his waist.

"My, my, aren't you two big girls!" he replied, touching his now-sticky cheek, "Have you and your cousins been sneaking sweets before supper again?" The girls giggled and shook their heads sheepishly.

"No, Grandad, Daddy let us have lipstick!" said Victoire excitedly, "What do you think of them?" The two girls puckered their lips to show off the coloring of the lipstick. Arthur chuckled.

"Ah, I think they're lovely! Is there a special occasion that I'm forgetting?" The girls shook their heads again.

"We just want to look extra lovely tonight for supper," replied Dominique.

"Well, then, looks like you've accomplished the goal!" said Arthur, setting Dominique down to sit on the workbench. Victoire tugged on Arthur's shirt.

"Grandmum said supper's ready, Granddad, so we best go inside," said Victoire. Arthur helped Dominique down from the bench and with a girl in each of his hands, he walked out of the garage and towards the busy kitchen, where the large crowd that is his family has sat around the extended table.

Molly, Fleur, and Andromeda busied themselves with charming foods onto the table, making sure everyone has whatever it was they wanted or needed. Fred and James were at it again with fake wands, as Bill, Charlie, and Ron roared into laughter watching them in the corner of the sitting room, while Ginny and Angelina scolded the two boys and attempted to wrangle the wands away. Harry and Hermione busied themselves with their newborns, trying to rock them to sleep – nearly impossible in a house this busy and obnoxious – and Audrey and Percy tried to round up the rest of the children to the table, with great distractions from George and Teddy as his assistant, who have put on a small show of the latest merchandise demonstrations on the table.

Obnoxious and chaotic, yet Arthur Weasley would not have it any other way.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, everyone managed to sit down and the two youngest Weasley grandchildren were put in Ginny's old room, napping. Trays of food flew from one end of the table to the other, children were chattering off the adults as the adults tried to have conversations with the others while making sure their children ate everything on their plates.

Two year old Rose Weasley crossed her small arms and pouted as Ron tried to spoon smashed peas into her mouth, unsuccessfully.

"Come on Rosie, eat something! See how Daddy eats?" he said as he fed himself the spoonful of peas, only to quickly spat it out, earning a glare from his wife across the table and a yell from his mother at one end.

"Ronald Weasley! That is disgusting! Where are your manners!"

"Honestly, Ronald, set a good example! There are children!"

"Me? What kind of muck did you put in this? No wonder she doesn't want to eat it!"

"For your information, Ronald, it is a nutritious diet of steamed peas and carrots with some diced chicken! It's all very organic and fresh from the garden!" argued Molly.

"So the girls have convinced you on this 'organic and healthy' trend, have they, Mum?" snickered Bill, as his brothers (with the exception of Percy), Audrey, and Harry snickered, each receiving a glare or in Harry's case, an elbow to the ribs, from their respective wives.

"It's choosing a healthy lifestyle, Ronald, keeps away ailments and just all-around makes you feel great everyday!" defended Percy, who has been on a crusade to convert his own junk-eating household into a healthy one.

"How could you put poor Audrey and your darling little girls through this, Perce?" mocked George, dramatically. Molly and Lucy giggled.

"For once, I agree with Percy! Just because we want you lot to stay living for a long time…"started Ginny.

"For what reason, who knows anymore," finished Angelina.

The table broke into a "discussion" of foods and health, much to Molly's dismay and the children and Arthur's amusement. Eventually the subject dwindled down and led on to discussions of Quidditch, which riled the lot all the more. It was when Andromeda and Molly returned to the table from the kitchen with a plethora of dessert that the grown adults stopped their arguments and speaking and focused on grabbing what was on the table.

"At least you lot have a healthy appetite," snickered Molly, her satisfaction with seeing her family ravishing her cooking grew.

"Don't we always, mum?" said George, winking at his mother, his mouth full of food.

* * *

As the sky turns dark, marking the end of the weekend, each of the smaller family units piled in the fireplace to return to their respective homes, with the exception of Charlie. Hugs and kisses and good-byes were exchanged, and by the end of it, Arthur and Molly grew ever so tired and began to turn towards the stairs to their bedroom, but not before whispering "Good night, Freddie, see you in the morning" to a portrait of Fred, who winked back at them.

Monday mornings in Percy and Audrey Weasley's household can be described with two words: organized chaos. Before the chaos begins, at exactly 5:30 am, Percy Weasley stirred in his sleep, eyes slowly opening to the dim bedroom. He turns to face his wife, who was a sight for his sore eyes despite of her loud snoring, with his left hand reaching for his horn-rimmed glasses. Audrey, as if able to feel his slight attention, opened her bright blue eyes and faintly smiled.

"Hi yourself," she said, as if understanding his unspoken morning greeting. Percy smiled and shifted closer to her, taking her into his arm under the cover. Audrey shifted so that her head rested on his chest, and the two silently gazed at the dark ceiling above.

"What's your day looking like?" asked Percy quietly. Audrey let out a small yawn before answering.

"Three scheduled deliveries today, and about four check-ups. Not too terrible. How about yours?"

"Monday morning meetings with the department, then I believe off to Glasgow to check on the Floo Network repairs on the West End. Should be done by three though, then I can get Molly from school."

"And by then I'll pick up some meat from the market, doesn't sound too horrendous for a Monday," replied Audrey.

This was their quiet morning ritual, somewhat of a very quiet team-bonding exercise before they face the world and especially, before they face the two little girls in the next rooms. Every morning, at exactly 5:30 am, the couple would wake up slowly, and talked about their plans for the day, or really anything, while lying in each other's arms, quietly in the dark, in the bliss of their privacy.

Only less than 15 minutes later, they rose out of bed to prepare for the day, before waking their daughters up for Muggle school and daycare. Audrey, being a Muggleborn, attended Muggle school until her 11th birthday. She and Percy decided that at home, magic was limited, because they wanted the girls to see and understand the value of doing manual work, and that not everything can be fixed with a flick of Mummy or Daddy's wands.

By 6:30 in the morning, Percy was in the kitchen, preparing four bowls of hot porridge for his family, when their family dog, a terrier named Nougat, raced down the stairs, nearly knocking him over. Only a sign of what's to come next – his two whining daughters, and his wife beckoning one of them to sit down and eat breakfast, while she tries to take the dog out to do his morning business.

"I don't wanna go to Muggle school! Muggle school is dumb!" cried Molly. She recently started her first week of Reception Foundation at a new school near King's Cross station.

"Don't say dumb, Molly, it's not very nice," said Percy as he placed Lucy in her high chair.

"Well it is, Daddy, the girls at school aren't nice so school is dumb!" she protested, her strawberry blonde hair gone awry all over her head, "I wanna work with you!"

"The girls at school aren't nice? How do you mean?" said Percy, now particularly interested. If school children are bothering her, it's only a matter of minutes that her accidental magic will set off around Muggle adults and children – the paperwork and the mess would be a tad more than chaotic.

"They make fun of me and my glasses," she said, sadly. Molly took after her father, and began wearing glasses recently to help her only slightly off vision. She chose a green rimmed pair, as green was her favorite color. Percy set all four bowls of porridge on the kitchen table and sat next to his eldest.

"You know, when I first got my glasses, Uncle George and Uncle Fred made fun of me endlessly," he began, recounting of the days of his fourteenth year of life, "they called me mean names, said teased endlessly. Not to mention the guys at school."

"That's not nice, Daddy," replied Molly, slowly looking up. Percy nodded and continued.

"And I felt really awful about it, all of it. About my glasses, my hair, everything. Until the day I met Mummy," Molly began to smile, "And I realized, that what people say don't matter unless you want them to. Mummy matters to me, and so do you and Lucy, and yours are the opinions I want and could ever need. Do you see what I mean?"

Molly nodded slightly, "But it still hurts my heart when they say mean things."

"I know, but they aren't the only girls at school are they? Now listen. I'm going to take you to school today, and I'll have a word with Mrs. Stanley. I promise you, they'll be very nice afterwards. And Molly, the ones who don't matter, don't count," he added, echoing the words of a famous Muggle children author.

"Thanks Dad," Molly said, still looking slightly nervous, but has given up to the fact that she will in fact, be attending school today. Percy pushed the bowl towards her, and beckoned her to eat up as Audrey returned with a happy Nougat in front of her. At the sight of the dog, Lucy began to happily wiggle in her seat, arms shaking about, knocking over a bowl of porridge onto the floor, where the dog stepped and ran off, leaving sticky footprints everywhere.

"And so it begins," sighed Audrey, shaking her head as Lucy happily clapped after the dog and an apron-clad Percy began to chase the dog.


	4. Chapter 4

The late summer mornings brought upon light breezes through the air, and George Weasley could not feel any more content than he did today. The first small signs that autumn is coming soon signaled happy times in his mind – memories of boarding the Hogwarts Express, the first day of a new year of pranks with his late brother at school, and last but certainly never least, Quidditch. He laid on a patchwork quilt that his mother made some years ago, on a flat field, with his one year old Roxanne crawling and climbing all over him. In his vision were dots of navy blue and yellow amongst the bright blue sky and clouds, sometimes the dots would whiz around chasing after smaller dots that were quaffles or bludgers. He blinked, and spotted a slightly smaller dot of yellow with light brown tight curls, followed by a larger dot with a black ponytail.

It had been Angelina's idea to start the Puddlemere United Training Camp Family Day. Ever since she took position as the Head Public Relations Manager of the team, she was always trying to brainstorm ideas to boost the team's morale – from charity works, to children Quidditch camps, etc. All of which has worked, making Puddlemere United one of Britain's most favored teams. Every year she and George attended, bringing along whoever was interested in going to go, which was close to 90% of the Weasley clan. This year, they had brought their own children along with James, Victoire, Dominique, with Ginny and Harry, since they were the eldest of the brood. Angelina, Harry, and Ginny had taken the children to fly with their old team mate Oliver Wood, who had brought his daughters.

Seeing Harry, Ginny, Angelina, and Oliver laughing and flying reminded him of the old Gryffindor team. Out of the corner of his eyes he could spot Alicia Spinnet –Davies and her husband Roger, whose wedding they had attended two months ago, chatting with others on the far side of the ground. Katie Bell – Wood had her and Oliver's infant son strapped on a carrier on her chest, whilst she talked with other mothers with younger children. The old team was back, again in one room, with mini-versions of themselves surrounding them.

All but Fred.

It took George more than five years to fully recover from Fred's passing. In honesty, he never truly has been over it – rather, he had accepted his death and decided to move past dwelling in his murder. The papers would pinpoint times of when the old George would return, but truly, the old George would never return, but a new, wounded yet repaired George has come to life. He started to come out of their old childhood bedroom on the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, to attend the one year memorial service. Since then he struggled to once more become an active member of society, participating in the rebuilding of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts, re-opening the shop, pursuing a relationship with Angelina, attending weddings and births – all without Fred, just a mask of smiles and laughs. People, including his own family, thought that he would just slowly "come out of it." However, if George had to pin-point a time of real acceptance and his own rebirth, it would be the time when he held his own son for the first time, and the little baby flashed him a faint smirk. He was a darker color than Fred was, no signs of ginger hair, but his small smirk brought back the memories of mischievous half-smirk that his twin would flash him.

A smaller version of Fred Weasley was born, and George suddenly filled a tug in his chest and a sense of fulfillment where a void used to be.

The first three years of Fred Johnson-Weasley's life was a whirlwind of joy and laughter. There were many a play dates set up with Ginny and Harry's James, and the two boys grew to become the best of friends and true partners –in-crime.

"Funny isn't it," chimed Harry one afternoon, "how James's namesake was a Marauder, and Freddie's namesake was the second coming of the Marauders?"

George's heart swelled at the thought of this.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft pinch of his nose, courtesy of the chubby hands of his one-year-old daughter. His eyes turned to her attention and he lifted her with his hands, dangling her above him and blowing her raspberries on her neck, making her giggle out of control.

"Hi, little princess! Have you got Daddy's nose, again?" said George, lifting his daughter up and down, only to be returned in her giggles. He landed her on his chest and she began to crawl up to his face, pulling and poking.

"Do you see Mummy and your brother up there, yeah?" he said, nudging towards the sky. She looked at her father in amusement, then towards the sky as if she understood, and flailed her arms in excitement of the flying figures miles above them, looking back at her father.

He took her to his arms, hugging her tightly as he sat them up. He kissed her chubby cheeks and looked into her blue eyes.

"You have uncle Fred's eyes, you know that?" he said, with a smile on his face. One of the very few things that separated Fred and George, aside from George's single ear, were that Fred's eyes were of a deep blue where as George's were blue but leaning more towards green. When Roxanne was born, it took her a day and a half to fully open her eyes and the family discovered her baby blues, and everyone, including Angelina, thought that they would fade. But George and Molly would recognize those specific blue anywhere, they were the exact same shade as Fred's – deep, dark blue.

Her blues stayed, and George realized it everyday, that a part of Fred lives on in him, his children, his siblings, and his nieces and nephews.

Roxanne began to squirm in his arms, her attention now towards the pitch, where her mother and brother, followed by her aunt, uncle, and cousins have landed. She lifted her arms excitedly, waving at them, trying to get up and running towards them before George grabbed her and sat her on his shoulders.

"Did you have fun with Daddy, Roxie?" cooed Angelina, setting her broom down onto the ground and picking up Roxanne into her arms. Freddie had somehow managed to bring back a child-size quaffle, and he was showing it off proudly to his father.

"Dad! Look what James and I got! Isn't it cool!" he exclaimed excitedly, as he began to throw it at his cousin James back and forth.

"Very cool!" replied George, catching the quaffle as James tossed it to him. Ginny sat next to her brother, with Roxanne in her arms as Angelina received food from the trolley that was going around. Dominique and Victoire sat around Roxanne, playing with her.

"Get that away from over here, you might hit the baby!" warned Ginny, as the boys scowled. They took a few steps further out, followed by George, who continued the game of catch with the boys.

"Ooh, I love your dress, Roxie!" cooed Victoire, holding Roxanne's hands, helping her stand up. Roxanne giggled at all of the attention she received from her female cousins, and grabbed Victoire's long hair into her own small hand. Dominique grabbed the plush animal toy and began to wiggle it in front of Roxanne, making fake animal noises. Harry smiled at the sight before him, watching his nieces play together.

It made him miss his other two children, who were both at Ron and Hermione's as they spent the day with George and Angelina. He can see, out of the corner of his eyes, his wife and his sister-in-law trying to set out their lunch, and further out, her brother-in-law tossing a quaffle with his son and nephew.

"It's good that we spend some alone time with James, Harry – sometimes I think he feels a bit left out because of the babies," assured Ginny after they dropped off Albus and Lily. And James certainly did not mind having both of his parents' full attention for nearly an entire day. Ever since the birth of Albus, and now soon after Lily, Harry and Ginny's time were mostly consumed by their two youngest. James often spent time with his godfather, Ron, at the shop (which explains his nature for mischief), or his grandparents at the Burrow. His parents, especially Ginny, often felt guilty that they nearly neglect James because the two babies required their outmost attention.

To make up for loss times, Harry and Ginny took the day to spoil James rotten at the Puddlemere United event. They purchased a new broomstick for him the day prior, and since they dropped off the little ones at Ron and Hermione's, they grabbed breakfast at Diagon Alley, before heading to shell cottage to pick up Bill's girls. Upon arriving at River Piddle, they've spoilt James with more ice cream and sweets, before taking him up to fly at the pitch.

In James Sirius Potter's young life, this was, so far, the best day of his life.

* * *

Hermione Granger-Weasley sat the rattle that was in her hand down on the small table in Hugo's nursery, tip-toeing towards the door, careful not to step on anything on the floor that would wake the two sleeping babies in the crib. She casted a silencing charm before closing the door. She leaned against the door, and with a long, tired sigh, she closed her eyes in hopes that the two babies will take an extra long nap today so she can at least get an early start on the new House-Elves legislation.

Or at least to sit on the sofa with a good book.

She walks slowly to the living room to find her tall husband magically cleaning up the living room. Suddenly feeling immensely tired at the sight of a childless area and a large, comfortable sofa, she lumped herself on the seat, soon joined by her equally tired husband.

"'Mione," he said softly, his eyes closed, facing the ceiling.

"Hm," was all she could muffle in reply.

"Don't get me wrong, but – I think two's enough for us, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," she agreed. Her husband chuckled slowly, petting her feet that were resting on his lap. She smiled and sat up slowly.

"Tell me something," she began, intently looking into his face, "how is it that we've battled Death Eaters, destroyed horcruxes, survived a war, for seven years total, and a day with toddlers and infants are going to be the end of us?"

He began to laugh. He opened his wife to find her tired and amused eyes.

"If you've no idea, I certainly don't," he replied, pulling her close into his arms, "but at least we'll end together. We've only got 11 more years until we're empty nesters for three-quarters of the year. Then we'll be _really_ free again!"

"Mm, and what sweet times those 8 months will be," replied Hermione, nuzzling her head into his neck, a small smile on her face.

"And 'til then," said Ron, as he lifted a stuffed elephant out of the sofa cushion and plopped it onto his wife's face, "We've got more messes to pick up."

"Good messes, though," she added, gently removing the elephant from her face.

"Only the best," and he kissed the top of her forehead with a tired smile on his face.


End file.
